


no more losing the war

by leeloo6



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, M/M, TFP - Freeform, more or less, sherlock figures stuff out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-28
Updated: 2017-01-28
Packaged: 2018-09-20 12:58:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9491855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leeloo6/pseuds/leeloo6
Summary: Fine line, that between love and death.





	

The meaning that feeling has is corrupted, unredeemable. Open hearts either never close again or get sealed forever. Sherlock’s was petrified, frozen in a chrysalis of past failure- failure to save and to protect, failure to receive. Eurus knew who the coffin was for. Death could dress up in all kinds of clothes, it could come for flesh or for smoke- emotion, as untouchable and as empirically questionable as it was, created effects that he couldn’t have predicted, including its own demise. 

Death of emotion to shield himself from that other type of death, the ugly, terribly real one, that came for what you loved most and never brought it back from its journey. _I love you_ , shouted his heart in the void, buried alive before it could come up for air. Who? A boy running down the hill, playing with chalk on cemetery stones; a dog he never had; a John whose eyes were a perfect mirror for his own tired soul. Poor John. Believing he was unworthy was probably the only flaw he truly had. _I love you._ But what? Why? Saying it to Molly felt like an overdose of an overdose of an overdose and not in the good way. Saying it to anyone ever was anathema. _I love you._ A chemical reaction or a matter of survival, a constant background noise in the apartment as the other one flips the pages of a newspaper, a dance at his wedding and a half-coma on the apartment floor hours later, when hope of closeness is shattered again and Sherlock’s left with himself, the game reset and rewinded to those first days away from home, when cocaine was his only meaning of life. 

A reaction read the wrong way; it wasn’t even a lie, he didn’t have to lie to Molly, his sister knew him too well. Instead, he had to stop lying to himself, which had proven a task even more daunting.

With breaking the coffin came shattering his own resistance, catching fire and shedding years of shelter. The aftermath was smoke and dust, but no more traitorous mirrors.

“We’re soldiers today, remember?” John asks, taking his hand almost, but not quite as he’d wish to have his hand taken. Sherlock nods and pushes through; he adds a small footnote to death, baring his heart and saying, _I win._

**Author's Note:**

> so guys I think that Sherlock breaking the coffin is symbol for him breaking the resistance he has in front of emotion and especially love


End file.
